


limbo

by wordscorrupt



Series: love brings you home [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Parent Tony Stark, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Sick Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordscorrupt/pseuds/wordscorrupt
Summary: The process of getting Peter back home proves to be more challenging than Tony could have imagined.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: love brings you home [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677040
Comments: 15
Kudos: 189





	limbo

They were only on the road for two hours before Tony was forced to stop. 

Peter had passed out in the passenger seat since they left the gas station. The same place where Tony had procured enough energy drinks and coffee to take at least two years off his life as well as a handful of cold and flu medicine that could either put down a small elephant or one sick spider-kid. It was the latter, who now had his head pillowed against the window with Tony’s coat and a blanket securely tucked in around him.

From the moment he pulled out of his parking spot at the gas station, he had kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other on Peter. Whether it was pressing the back of his palm to his forehead, gauging his fever or smoothing the teen’s hair back. 

The drive is quiet for the most part with the exception of the wheezing coming from Peter. It’s a strange, unnerving comfort - a reminder that his kid was by his side, alive and breathing after disappearing for more than a week. At the same time, it’s an indication that Peter required medical assistance. More so than what Tony could offer from a basic first aid kit and gas station medicine. But, even with hovering at least fifteen miles over the speed limit, they are still seven hours away from home.

He’s contemplating the logistics of flying in one of his private planes, and if Peter was even in the right capacity to fly, when the aforementioned teen wakes up with a jolt, starting to hack up a lung. 

“Shit,” Tony murmurs, eyes wide as he glances over at Peter who is doubled over. He eases off the gas pedal, reaching over to rub circles on the kid’s back. Peter holds his chest, gasping for air in between his coughing and shoots a panicked look over to Tony. 

“Breathe, kiddo,” Tony urges, quickly glancing over his shoulder into the other lanes and once safe, he starts drifting towards the right until the car runs into the gravel covering the shoulder of the road. He sets the car in park, slipping his seatbelt off before racing towards Peter’s side. He flings the door open and Peter practically falls out of his seat. He holds his arms out, bracing for the sudden weight in his arms. 

He loses his balance slightly but regains it soon enough to ease Peter out of the car all while murmuring, “You’re okay, buddy. Deep breaths, now.” 

He settles Peter on the ground, leaning him against the car, before kneeling down next to him, brushing his hair back. He rubs his hand over the kid’s chest as if he’s trying to physically get his cough to settle down and his airways to open fully. Peter starts sliding down towards the ground, but Tony scoops him back up, cradling him in his arms. 

After a minute the coughing seizes but Peter is still left struggling to breathe however the fresh air was starting to offer a reprieve, one small breath at a time. 

Tony eventually repositions until he’s leaning against the car next to Peter and he’s cradling the kid’s head against his chest. Peter is no longer gasping for air but the entire ordeal has left him practically limp in Tony’s arms from exhaustion. 

“You’re okay,” Tony reiterates for about the hundredth time. He holds the teen close, rocking him. Peter sits back a few minutes later, although Tony keeps a hold on him. He shivers, hugging himself as a gust of wind brushes against them both and Tony rubs his hands along the kid’s arms. 

“How are you feeling, bud?” It was a dumb question in and of itself but Tony needed someway to gauge whether he was going to risk the drive back home with an ill teenager or head to the nearest hotel instead. 

Peter frowns, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. A moment later he speaks, voice hoarse. “I’ll be fine.”

Tony sighs. He threads his fingers through the kid’s curls as Peter eases back closer to him, curling against his chest. “That’s in the future. I’m talking about now, bud. The present. The here and the now. The - “

Peter cuts him off. “I can handle it. We’re not too far away from,” Peter pauses, sniffling before continuing, “home.”

The word strikes a chord for the both of them. Tony squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his lips to the boy’s head. “You tell me once you can’t.”

“Okay.” 

~

Peter wasn’t fine. 

Tony had to stop for gas an hour after their episode. While the tank was filling up he grabbed the thermometer from the first aid kit and managed to take Peter’s temperature without waking him up. Coupled with the sweat across Peter’s forehead and high reading on the thermometer, it was evident that the kid’s fever wasn’t slowing down anytime soon. And it wasn’t for as long as Tony kept him cooped up in the passenger seat of this car.

Which lands them in the lobby of the nearest hotel. Well, the nearest one that didn’t seem to be able to cause Peter any more harm. Peter is tucked against Tony’s side, shivering, barely able to hold himself up while Tony checks out a room. Thankfully the front desk lady doesn’t ask too many questions before handing them their key cards. 

Peter holds on long enough for them to reach their room on the third floor before falling onto the nearest bed with an exhausted sigh. Tony drops their duffel bag on the floor before reaching over to slip off Peter’s shoes and starts to tuck the blanket around the kid.

“Better?” He asks as he finishes tucking in the second blanket. 

Peter’s face is pressed against the pillow but he nods his head. 

“Good,” Tony murmurs, stroking the curls on the back of Peter’s head. “There was a grocery store that we passed on our way here. I’m going to go and get a few things. I’ll be gone - twenty minutes top.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“You’ll be on good behavior when I’m gone?” 

“No p’omises.” 

Tony smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Peter’s head. “That’s my boy.” 

~

Tony’s ransacking the soup aisle when Pepper calls him. He had talked to her last night, letting her know he had found Peter and to inform the others. 

“Hey Pep,” He answers, balancing the phone on his shoulder while plucking a few more cans of chicken noodle soup off the shelf and into his cart, joining the bottles of Gatorade before he ventures off into the medicine aisle.

“Tony, where the hell are you? F.R.I.D.A.Y. is tracking you out in the middle of nowhere. Please tell me you didn’t get lost.” 

“Negative,” He replies with a deep sigh, grabbing his phone and holding it firm against his ear. “He’s sick, Pep. Really sick. Practically collapsed on the side of the highway because he couldn’t stop coughing. I couldn’t keep him cooped up in the car anymore. We’re staying at a hotel for right now.” 

Pepper sighs before stating, “I’m sending a jet. Right now.”

“Can’t, Pep. I checked. The closest airport is hundreds of miles from here.”

“The quinjet,” Pepper offers. 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “We don’t have any in commission. Not since, well…”

He hears the sound of papers shuffling before Pepper speaks again. “You leave that up to me. I’ll update you in a few. Try to keep both of you in once piece until then, please.” 

“That’s easier said than done.” 

~

Tony arrives back at their room and upon seeing the bed, void of one sick, frail teenager, his heart stops. 

“Peter!” Tony shouts, the bags in his hands dropping to the ground as his whole body basically practically goes rigid with fear. He focuses on the bed, rapidly blinking as if Peter was going to reappear any moment. In doing so, he doesn’t sense the curly-haired head poking out from the bathroom. 

“Oh, yay, you got the blue Gatorade.” 

Tony practically jumps from his spot and swivels around as Peter comes hobbling out of the bathroom, one arm curled around his stomach. He glances at Tony with a guilty expression, mumbling, “I threw up.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Tony cries, before swooping Peter up in his arms, practically crushing him against his chest.

“T’ank G’d I f’ew up?” Peter’s muffled voice questions, slightly kicking his feet as Tony hovers him a few inches off the ground. 

“Yeah, something like that,” Tony answers gruffly before carefully setting Peter back on the floor, keeping a steady hand on the teen at all times. Peter tries to reach for the Gatorade on the floor but Tony stops him, directing him towards the bed instead. 

Peter sits on the edge of the bed as Tony rummages through his luggage before pulling out a pair of pajamas. 

“Think you can put these on while I heat some soup up for you? Do that and I’ve got a Gatorade with your name on it,” Tony suggests, placing the pile of clothes in Peter’s lap. Peter dutifully nods his head. 

Tony pours the soup into a bowl and sets into the microwave to heat up just in time to turn around and watch Peter nearly face plant as he attempts to put on his pajama pants. 

“Jesus,” Tony murmurs, racing over and grabbing a hold of the teen, helping him sit down on the bed. 

“Got dizzy,” Peter admits, rubbing at his eyes. 

Tony grabs the kid’s bottoms and pulls them up. “I need you to stand up, kiddo but hold onto my shoulders, first,” Tony directs and as Peter stands up, he holds him close with one arm, the other pulling the kid’s pants all the way up and in place. 

“Do I still get a Gatorade?” Peter ponders as Tony helps him settle back down on the bed. 

Tony barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “Kiddo, you'll have a million Gatorade bottles with your name on them.”


End file.
